


Abandonment Issues.

by 1988Andy



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Forgetting to eat, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Michael-centric, No smut for two fics in a row??, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Possibly Unrequited Love, Trans Character, Trans Michael, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, aka they're stupid, as is most of the fandom tbh, ask to tag, help them, hyper fixation, jeremy procrastinates on his gayness, michael panics, unhealthy eating, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:10:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1988Andy/pseuds/1988Andy
Summary: Michael Mell is not a healthy person. Then again, neither is Jeremy.





	Abandonment Issues.

**Author's Note:**

> wow another thing that was meant to be smut but turned into a michael character study

Michael Mell was by no means a healthy person, but then again neither was Jeremy. But, Michael’s problems were mental and physical, not just a voice in his head. He often forgot to take his meds, causing his focus to fly out the window. That is unless he could find something to hyper fixate on, it which case he'd latch on and never stop talking about it. His hyperfixation could also lead to forget things he needed, like sleep or drinking water. The most common was forgetting to eat, and when he did it usually came to an extreme. Or, he'd take his meds and binge eat. Slushies, Beef Jerky, anything you could get at 7/11. He inhaled that shit. This junk food binging is probably what made him so chubby. Unfortunately for Michael, that chubby effect wasn't just his stomach and thighs. It was his hips, his ass, arms, his chest. That was the worst part. He barely had money to buy a new binder, so he was stuck in one from when he was 15. It dug into his ribs and the fold between what would be boobs and his stomach.

Michael let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping back in his bean bag chair. He was high off his ass, eating Doritos by the handful and washing them down with Mountain Dew. He was bored out of his mind. But, there was little he cared about on a Friday night alone in his boxers. He picked at the scabs on his thighs and wrists, and thought about texting Jeremy. _Thought_. Jeremy was, as mentioned, not mentally healthy. The boy had a voice telling him what to do, and most of those instructions involved not being near Michael. After that night at the play, things were rocky. Sure, Jeremy had apologized, but that didn't really fix the hole. It was a slow process, they hung out more and more at a time. Michael was hesitant to let Jeremy back in, of course but… he craved that love again. He craved Jeremy. But Jeremy had friends now, he had a life. He had Rich, his Bi buddy. He had Christine, and sure they had broken up but they were two peas in a pod now.

Jeremy had a lot of friends. Michael however, had one. _Jeremy_. Well, Jeremy and his good old companion weed. But the point still stood, Michael was alone. He was alone and he was sad. He glanced over to the box cutter under the pile of clothes next to his bed. He sighed softly, grabbing his phone. He looked over his background, a Snapchat filter picture of him and Jeremy. The Hoe filter as they called it, dogs. He smiled fondly at those soft blue eyes, the ones he'd fallen in love with years ago. He felt that familiar twinge of pain in his chest as those feelings bubbled up. Why would Jeremy want such a fat loser? No, no. He pushed the thought back, opening it up. His password was Ny0, like the Keanu Reeves character, Nyo. God, he really did have it bad. Michael hated the matrix, but Jeremy loved it, so he dealt with it. He opened up his messages quietly.

**Message to Player Two:**

dude  
dude seriously

**Message from Player Two:**

Mike it is three am, what is it?

Michael tensed. He glanced at his phone clock, sighing. 3:06, he'd forgotten. People didn't stay up like this, normal people didn't stay up like this. There was that twinge in his chest again.

_****_ ~~ ~~ **Message to Player Two:**

long day.

**Message from Player Two:**

You good?  
Do I need to come over?

Michael hated that. He hated that Jeremy would only pay attention if he said something was upsetting him. He hated that he was treated like a fucking charity case. The twinge spread to his stomach as his head spun. Still, he needed someone to stop him.

**Message to Player Two:**

Please.

Michael stood shakily, throwing on the trademarked red hoodie. Glasses, a little bit of hair gel and he looked decent. He didn't bother with pants, because why would he? The squip incident may have made it hard to talk to Jeremy but that didn't mean he would be putting on pants. He shoved dirty clothes under the bed, but he realized something. These were all kinda signs of a major depressive disorder. Add that to the wonderful little cocktail of shit that was Michael Mell. He made a b-line for the bathroom without realizing, throwing up. This whole anxiety thing was getting out of hand. He came back to his room, seeing rocks at his window. He opened it very slowly, his arms weak from the setting in panic attack. Stupid, stupid. This was such a stupid fucking idea.

The thought was cut off by Jeremy. Michael stared down out of his window at him, heart instantly melting. That face. It was thin, long. It matched the rest of Jeremy’s body, long and thin, lanky. Beanpole. The adorable, dirt haired beanpole. Those eyes, soft and blue, like the sky. Michael’s breath hitched in surprise at his best friend, smiling tiredly. His breathing quickened as tears that he didn't know were building fell. His stomach was going flips. He was glad the basement of his house only poked out a little, barely having to pull Jeremy up into the room. He fell back immediately, tears all over his cheeks. Jeremy stared at him for a second, shaking his head.

“Michael? Are… oh Jesus.” He muttered. He moved forward to grab onto Michael’s left thigh, earning a offended gasp from Michael. Jeremy scrunched his nose, huffing. “You're bleeding, Michael what happened?” He asked. Michael sat up slowly, looking down. Apparently one of those scabs had bled significantly. He felt so guilty. Look at what you did. He's scared, he's fucking terrified. Tears, there was just a puddle of tears in Michael’s lap now. His face was red and fat tear drops ran down his face. He sobbed, hyperventilating. Jeremy was quiet.

Michael stared up at Jeremy slowly, voice broken and so hurt. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He muttered, crying out. Jeremy shook his head, grabbing Michael. He pulled him into a tight hug, rocking him lightly. Michael kept muttering soft apologies, his breath quick and panicked. Jeremy was quiet for a few seconds before finding the words he wanted to say. “I don't care.” He said softly. He dashed away the fearful look on Michael’s face. “I don't care that you're sick, I don't care that you have boobs, I don't care that you hurt yourself… Well, I do care, I care about you.” He muttered softly.

Michael was silent for a second before letting out a pained sob, shaking his head. “God dammit. I love you!” He choked out. Before Jeremy could say anything, he kept going. “I fucking love you, I have for years, I fell in love with you the night you fell off that stupid yellow slide and knocked out your last baby tooth. I've been so hopeless in how much I put into you! Putting all my eggs in one basket doesn't cover it anymore, I just threw them out and put myself in instead! I have no friends, I have no l-life outside of my shitty family, half assed conversations with the girl from 7/11 and your stupid beautiful blue eyes!” He snapped. “And now you don't give me the time of day! You only pay attention when I'm upset, you only hang out with me out of pity! I'm happy that you're happy, I'm happy you have friends now but damnit, I…” he trailed off. “I miss you.” He whispered.

“Michael…” Jeremy’s voice was calm, pathetic. Without even raising his head, Michael knew he was crying. Jeremy let out a choked whimper, grabbing Michael’s hands. “I-I'm sorry, fuck, fuck I'm so sorry! I didn't- I just…” he shook his head, twitching and waving one hand to stimulate his thinking. “I don't know! I was gay for you in kindergarten but I just kinda said like, not today, and it never came up until the squip and then he made it worse and said I should be ashamed of how I felt for you-” he was cut off by Michael.

“What do you mean you said ‘not today’?” He asked through tears. Jeremy shrugged nervously. “I just thought I’d deal with it another day!” He squeaked out. Michael’s mouth hung open for a second as he slowly spoke. “You.. you procrastinated on realizing you liked me and forgot to realize it all together, that is till a supercomputer brought it up and made you feel bad about it?” He asked. Jeremy nodded. “Yes! Exactly! I- and I've never felt so fucking stupid-”

Michael yanked the pale boy down into a kiss, holding his cheeks. Jeremy squeaked in surprise before leaning into the kiss slowly. Michael pulled back slowly, holding Jeremy’s hands in his own sweaty palms. They stared at one another silently, just kind of taking on the moment. Suddenly, Jeremy leaned up, wrapping his arms tightly around Michael. The smaller and chubbier boy hugged back, sighing into the familiar scent of lavender vanilla febreeze and axe body spray. “Stop fucking disappearing.” Michael said simply. “I'm sick of you not texting back for days on end…”

Jeremy nodded lightly. “Please tell me things. Don't keep it bottled up like that. I feel for you, really, but there's a point where I can't help… I don't want you to hit that point and feel like you still have to hide.” He muttered. “So… uh.” He sighed. “Just… treat me like your friend, again.” He asked hopefully. Michael gave a reluctant look. “It’s gonna take trial and error. Especially because we’re not friends.” He teased. The look on Jeremy’s face was priceless, and it earned a tired snicker from Michael. “We’re boyfriends. If you'll have me.” He finished. Jeremy nodded quickly.

“I'd love that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a slut for comments so tell me what y'all think


End file.
